


Open Water

by Miracule



Category: Da Vinci's Demons
Genre: Angst, M/M, always angst, complicated relationships i wish were fleshed out more, first times (almost)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-17
Updated: 2014-05-17
Packaged: 2018-01-25 09:56:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1644620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miracule/pseuds/Miracule
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>takes place sometime after 2x04.  Zo had always known - deep down - that there was something there.  Does Leo feel it too?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Open Water

**Author's Note:**

> also for this fic we kinda have to pretend that the almost-kiss didn't happen. oops. : ( i know.

It was Leo—biting his lip, wringing his hands—who first broached the subject. 

“Zo,” he called, weakly. He looked anxious. His face was smeared with plaster and Zo didn’t hesitate to tell him so. Leo frowned; put a hand to his cheek and rubbed. He paused and looked at Zo expectantly.

“Not yet.”

“It doesn’t matter. Listen.”

Zo just looked at him, unused to this quiet, uncertain tone. 

“I saw something today.” The artist paused for effect. 

“Hm?” Zo made a show of biting into the apple he’d been keeping for later that afternoon. “God, Leo, what?” 

“Two men.”

“Oh?” 

“They were...” He fell silent once more.

Zo swallowed. “Mm?”

Leo moved toward him and placed his palms firmly on Zo’s shoulders. “I want you to be my first,” he said, nodding his head through the strained silence that followed. His lips twitched into a smile. 

Zo swallowed. “I’m...sorry?” 

Leo was quiet for a moment. He stepped backward and gestured in Zo’s direction. “Well, you’re...you’re...attractive. Good with your hands. You like me.” 

“I...what?” Zo couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. He began to sweat, at once embarrassed and a little flattered. “I don’t like you,” he corrected, having to push the words out. 

“I...all right. I mean, you...” he gestured again, “I thought you would like to, you know...you would be willing to.” 

“Fuck off,” Zo snapped. He didn't know what else to say. And that was it. Leo shrugged and walked across the floor. He nodded again and then returned his attention to the plaster. Neither of them spoke a word, and finally Zo walked out of the studio, having practically sweated through his shirt. 

But that had been years ago, so when Leo tore his gaze away from the sea and looked at him—wouldn’t stop looking at him—Zo didn’t dwell on the possibility that Leo wanted something to happen. 

Leo bedded men, but not Zo. That’s the way it had always been. Even when Leo kissed him, which happened on occasion, Zo had come to learn that it didn’t mean much, as Da Vinci shared kisses like they were sweets from a street vendor. 

But later that night, when they were sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, comfortably drunk, Zo found himself bemused by his friend’s affection. Did Leo kiss Nico’s palm, or let his lips linger against the skin before intertwining their fingers? Did he pinch Andrea’s cheeks, all the while smiling so warmly that he hardly looked himself? 

“Go get more wine,” Zo demanded, giving him a good nudge in the ribs. Leo made an unhappy face but relented nonetheless. 

Eventually, they clambered into a cot together, doubled over with laughter at some unmemorable anecdote. Leo dug his forehead into Zo’s neck as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and Zo laughed even harder. It was good. It felt good. 

::

“Zo, wake up.”

“I’m so tired,” he moaned, still smiling despite himself. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, but suddenly there was only cool air where the heat of Leo’s body had been. Zo shivered and glanced around, only to see Leo gazing at him like a sheepish schoolboy. He took Zo’s hand in his own and frowned at it. 

“You are...” he began, his voice rough with drink. 

Zo shivered again. “What?”

Leo paused and took a long breath. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Zo laughed. “Are you serious? You were gonna say something nice about me; don’t deny it. Go on, you prick, I wanna hear it.” 

Leo, however, had become serious—anxious, even. “I would take you to bed in an instant.” 

Silence. Heavy, foggy silence.

“God, I want to.” He shook his head; buried his face into his hands. 

Zo realized, with some apprehension, that he already knew this. 

“I know you don’t relish the company of men, Zo, but if you...if you ever...”

Zo reached out and touched his friend's lips—soft, like a woman’s. But Leo was no woman, and Zo found that he didn’t care. 

He began fumbling with his tunic, and Leo sat back on his heels, mouth slung open. 

“Come here, then,” Zo said, despite the fact that his head was swimming and his stomach was beginning to turn from too much wine. They had almost depleted Alfonso’s personal stores. 

Suddenly, Zo found himself wanting for air as Leo kissed him. It was sloppy and they were off-rhythm, which Zo might have expected considering their drunkenness, but he was startled by Leo's urgency. 

“My god,” he managed to choke out, “take it easy...I’m too fucking pissed to keep up with you.” 

Leo pulled back, breathing hard, his eyes darting from Zo’s face to the space between their bodies. His hands, Zo noticed, were warm against the skin of his belly. 

“Your cock needs to catch up.”

Zo gulped. “Too much to drink.”

“I know.” Leo kissed him again, gently this time. “Zo, I’m sorry.” 

“What?” Zo blinked and frowned. He didn't understand. Admittedly, he hardly understood anything.

“We shouldn’t be doing this. Not now. It’s not good for me, either. Being drunk isn't how I wanted this to...” he trailed off and gave Zo another short kiss. “Just promise me one thing.” 

Zo nodded, and tried to ignore the uncomfortable pounding in his head.

“When we find Nico...please, don’t leave.” 

Zo swallowed. His stomach was in knots. “I won’t. Not for a while, anyway, you know.” He was trying to be funny. Leo would appreciate that, he thought. 

His friend heaved a sigh. “You should sleep,” he said, quietly. “I don’t think either of us will rise to the occasion tonight.” 

“Sleep with me, then,” Zo offered, holding out his arms. What else could he do? He had no answers—he was certain of nothing. Except for the fact that he loved Leonardo Da Vinci. He always had. 

**Author's Note:**

> so obviously we don't know exactly what happened between them, but hey...i kinda like the idea of unresolved sexual tension. hell, i really like it.


End file.
